Buffer grinned as he entered the pub and saw the familiar faces of his friends and former shipmates. 2 Dads and RO were already arguing about something–he could hear their voices pitching higher as they antagonized each other.
"Here's the man of the hour!" Charge called out, spotting Buffer.
There was a round of cheers and hearty, backslapping hugs. Charge shoved a beer into Buffer's hand and the buffer who'd replaced him, Dutchy, introduced himself. The only ones missing were Bomber, posted on a ship out of Sydney, and the X.
Which was just as well. It had taken months of distance, but after being posted off the Hammersley, Buffer had finally admitted to himself that he had developed feelings for the X. Inappropriate unprofessional feelings.
He had taken a few more months to convince himself just how preposterous it was to have feelings for a senior officer who would never see him as more than a mate. Distance was doing wonders for him, though. Out of sight out of mind. She was still on the Hammersley , and he was not.
He was briefly disappointed that the X wasn't there but quickly recovered, putting aside his desire to prove to himself how much his feelings for her had faded in favor of relaxing with his old mates.
…And then. And then, beer raised to his mouth, the rim of the glass smooth and cool against his bottom lip, he spotted her walking toward him across the room. He froze–as if she wouldn't notice him if he sat very still. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he watched her approach. Her eyes sparkled in just the way he remembered. Her walk exuded the confidence he had associated with her from the first moment she'd stepped aboard. He took a long pull of his beer and then placed the glass on the table in front of him.
"We didn't think you'd actually make it off the ship tonight, ma'am!" 2 Dads hollered out a welcome.
"Good to know I can still surprise you," she shot back at him.
Then she was upon them. Buffer knew he was staring but he couldn't stop himself. He winced as Swain kicked him under the table.
"Bet you didn't expect to see this old salt kicking around did you, X?" Swain nodded his head toward Buffer.
Charge chimed in, "We found him hanging around the docks with a long face. He missed us that much."
Buffer finally roused himself from the stupor that he'd fallen into when he'd seen her. "He's got the wrong end of it, X–I was on my way out for a drink when I came across this sorry lot. Decided I'd bring them along with me to show them how a real sailor spends R&R."
He smiled at her and hoped to God he looked normal. His lips felt unnaturally stretched across his teeth and he couldn't figure out where to put his hands. He had spent the better part of three years pining for his boss–for this firecracker of a woman who currently had him trapped in her gaze–and his careful dismantling of his feelings for her had been for nought because he still felt the same. Seeing her made it clear that he wasn't over her.
Swain whispered at him, "You alright, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Buffer fixed him with a stare, hoping that his glare would be enough to get Swain to shut it. Swain shrugged and turned his attention back to the conversation that flowed around them.
"Your shout, Ro!" 2 Dads reminded the table. Robert grumbled but got up and headed to the bar, Kate making the last minute decision to follow him.
When they returned to the table with a round of drinks, Buffer noticed that she purposefully picked a new seat. She wedged herself in between RO and Dutchy, on the opposite side of the table from him. Which was fine, really. It was easier to be around her from a safe distance–it always had been. He flashed back to their one moment together–pressed close under a tarp that reeked of bait–when she'd gazed at him through the darkness and rested her fingertips on his face. That had been it–three years of feelings culminating in one brief face touch.
He couldn't think about it any longer or it would do his head in. He reached for the beer that Ro had placed in front of him and then he excused himself for a smoke. His life was fine because he didn't think about what he had lost when he left the Hammersley .
"You can't lose what you never had," he muttered to himself, glad the smoking patio was deserted. If he started thinking of Kate as the one who'd gotten away, then he'd never recover. Because she wasn't–she was nothing more than his former XO and a mate. Same as Charge. Just a former shipmate and a sporadic drinking buddy when their schedules aligned.
He scoffed–the idea was ludicrous. He knew he was lying to himself. He also knew it would be easier to pick the lie back up tomorrow, when she wasn't sitting across from him smiling and laughing. He took a drag off his cigarette and held it in his lungs, letting the nicotine calm his nerves. He exhaled and then took a slow sip of beer.
This was what he should be focused on–mates and beer and a smoke. A view of the harbor at sunset. The simple things in life. There was no point in dwelling on something that would never happen.
He'd catch hell from Swain for smoking and he'd catch hell from Charge for leaving the party, but he needed a minute alone. He needed a minute to try and think of something besides Kate. He ran over the footie scores from last night in his mind and he listed off all the tasks he was going to set his new batch of junior sailors to on their next patrol…but his mind kept returning to that moment under the tarp.
She had agreed with him that they had nothing beyond professional respect and friendship between them. Then she had leaned closer and touched his face and in that moment he thought he would break. He was one breath away from taking her face in his hands and kissing her. But they'd been interrupted and, in retrospect, he was glad that he hadn't been forced to discover that part of himself was willing to throw away his career for one kiss.
He sat on a bench against the wall, facing the harbor, and leaned back with his eyes closed. The rough brick caught against the fabric of his shirt and the last rays of the sun warmed his face.
"Hey." Her voice at his side spooked him and he jumped, startled out of his thoughts.
"I thought you quit?" She nodded at his cigarette and sat on the bench next to him.
"I did. It didn't take."
"Too bad. You'll have to try again." She gave him a smile but it didn't reach her eyes.
He turned his head to exhale smoke away from her and then looked back at her, waiting for her to speak again. The silence stretched between them and he was the one to break it.
"Party getting too wild for you, X? Or you just missed the smell of the '90s?" He held out his cigarette and she wrinkled her nose.
"I needed a quick break from the double act of Charge and 2 Dads." She shook her head but grinned fondly. "And I do not miss the smell of cigarettes, thanks."
"Sorry, X." He sheepishly took a final drag and stubbed it out. "I was done with it, anyway."
Silence fell between them, again. He wished she'd go back inside and let him be miserable alone.
She avoided his gaze and he watched her avoiding him and wondered what the hell she was doing out here with him. Maybe this was her moment to call him out for his inappropriate feelings toward her. Except she had no idea he had any feelings at all toward her. He couldn't stop himself from breaking into a bitter grin at the idea of it–him pretending he was just an old crewmember back to see the boys and not constantly in the process of purging her from his thoughts.
"What? What are you smiling about?" She smiled back at him and his heart threatened to beat through his chest, undoing the calming effect of the cigarette.
"Just happy to be back with my old mates." It wasn't exactly a lie. He was glad to see them all again. He felt the wind shift and looked at the dark clouds scudding above them across the darkening sky. "Wind's about to pick up, X."
"I'm not your X any more."
"I know." He turned his head to look at her.
"Do you? Because you just tried to give me a sitrep on the wind."
"Yeah, 'course I realize it. I transferred. I've got a new XO. I was just making conversation about the weather." It came out sharper than he intended.
She bit her lip and he wondered what words she was holding back–probably considering whether it was appropriate to tell him off even though he wasn't in her chain of command. He realized he was staring at her lips and turned his gaze toward the spot where the sun had just disappeared beyond the horizon.
"There's nothing that you would say to me, now that I'm not your commanding officer?" She asked, her voice slightly hesitant.
He thought for a moment, wondering if there was something he'd flubbed on a mission in the past that she was still hanging onto that she thought he should be apologizing for.
"Nope. You've got the training and credentials that I don't. I trust your decisions." He didn't have anything to say to her about their time together. He had faith in her ability to do her job and he'd followed her orders without a second thought.
"Buffer…" She glanced at him and then looked away. "What if I told you that all my training and all my credentials didn't prepare me to make a decision about what to do on the day you left the ship. I thought that might be the last time I'd see you. And I wondered if maybe that was for the best."
His gaze snapped back to her face. Her expression was unreadable.
"What do you mean? You didn't want to see me again?" He felt his heart breaking but he squared his shoulders, ready to absorb whatever blows she had for him.
"Look." She turned her body toward him on the bench. "I hope it's obvious, but I would never put you in that position–to be involved with a shipmate–it could be seen as an abuse of power and jeopardize both of our careers…" She was talking fast, in the way she always did when she was excited or nervous. "Only we aren't shipmates, are we? And I thought–once you posted off–I'd forget about you. Crushes always fade."
He frowned, confused, as he tried to understand what she was saying. He was the one with the crush, not her. Always had been. So what was she saying? She took in his worried expression and stood up abruptly. She hurried on, "It seemed like a good idea to tell you, but clearly it wasn't. Just forget I ever said anything, yeah? Enjoy your night out with the boys."
She turned to walk away but he leapt up after her, reaching out and grabbing her hand. He needed more time to think about what she had said. He needed a minute to process it.
"Wait, Kate." Her name slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Just give me a minute, ok? Just stay there and let me think about this." He was an action guy. He was fast with a rifle or a punch; he was a fast runner and a fast swimmer; he was quick to see movement along the treeline. He was not a fast thinker. He did not have the mental agility that she had. But he was slowly realizing what she had just admitted to him.
"Buffer?" She was waiting for his response.
"I don't know what to say." He barely got the words out. His pulse hammered in his ears.
"Tell me I'm not a complete idiot," she murmured. "Tell me that there was something between us. That I didn't make something out of nothing."
"You're not…you didn't," he assured her. He readjusted his hold on her hand, pulling her toward him. She followed his lead and stepped closer. He took a deep breath and said the words he'd been holding inside for too long. "I've been thinking about you since our first boarding together."
Her eyes darted to his, holding his gaze while he struggled to come up with the right words. "Kate…" All that came out was her name. He brought his hand up to her face and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips lightly rest along her jaw.
She tipped her face up towards his and kissed him. It was soft and it was over too soon. He shifted his body closer to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. The wind blew her hair against his face as they kissed again and her arms wrapped around the back of his neck, keeping him close.
He hadn't ever been over her, despite his best efforts, and now he was filled with hope that he would never have to try to get over her again.